


Best Part of Waking Up

by CharWright5



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Based on a photo, F/M, Morning After, References to past Lydia/Jackson, Terrible Folgers references, references to past Lydia/Aiden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5887333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharWright5/pseuds/CharWright5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"With a sweep of the arms on either side, she soon discovered she was alone in bed, a pout forming on her lips. But the expression soon faded as she heard whistling coming from elsewhere in the apartment, water running as a kettle was filled. Her smile grew at the thought of Jordan--of her </i>boyfriend<i> through there making coffee, relishing the domesticity of it all."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Part of Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](https://t.co/rzSBFtBVCG) photo Ryan Kelley posted on his twitter cause he's a menace.

Lydia figured it was inevitable. All those hours spent together researching, trying to figure out what Jordan was, the fight training, the way he was always supportive of her, respected her, believed her even when what she was saying seemed beyond crazy.

She'd fallen for him, slowly but surely.

It was different than it had been with Jackson or Aiden, relationships with them based more on lust and sexual attraction than emotions and mutual appreciation of who the other was as an actual _person_ \--supernatural being or not. And while there had been a definite attraction the moment she'd first laid eyes on the deputy inside the Wolcott house, she hadn't acted on it the way she had with his exes. She still felt raw with the loss of them and Allison, still felt upside down as she struggled to come to term with her banshee powers, but over time, as she healed and found herself, she also found herself developing feelings that went beyond the superficiality of what she'd felt for Jackson or Aiden.

And now that things had settled in Beacon Hills, the pack enjoying the lull after defeating La Bête and the Dread Doctors, she allowed herself to act on her feelings for Jordan, which inevitably led to them physically expressing them. Over several hours. In several positions.

A smile formed on Lydia's face as she stretched beneath the sheets of Jordan's bed, feeling deliciously sore in all the right places. Between her legs was raw, her neck aching with hickeys he'd left as his animal side took over and demanded he mark her, her chest stinging from where he'd gotten a bit too carried away with the fangs.

Lydia finally understood all of Allison's grins when he discussed Scott shifting during sex. It was beyond hot--a metaphor she hated using given Jordan's fire related powers, but it was incredibly fitting.

With a sweep of the arms on either side, she soon discovered she was alone in bed, a pout forming on her lips. But the expression soon faded as she heard whistling coming from elsewhere in the apartment, water running as a kettle was filled. Her smile grew at the thought of Jordan--of her _boyfriend_ through there making coffee, relishing the domesticity of it all.

In a better mood than she'd felt in--well, probably since Jackson so cruelly dumped her via text then humiliated her in the school hallways the next day, she got out of bed, snatching up Jordan's t-shirt from where it had been tossed on the floor the night before and putting it on. The white cotton swallowed her, the hem reaching mid-thigh on her petite frame, practically a nightgown, and she loved it. A smile formed on her face at feeling tiny and feminine and strangely protected in her boyfriend's giant shirt and she gave in to the urge to twirl on a tiptoe like a little kid, enjoying the emotional levity she was experiencing. Flipping her hair out from under the collar, she padded her way to the bathroom, using the facilities and washing up before leaving the en suite.

Jordan was in the kitchen as predicted, still whistling as he grabbed a couple mugs from the cabinet above his Keurig machine. She stopped just inside the doorway, eyes drinking in the sight of him dressed only in black sleep pants, well toned torso on display. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she watched the play of muscles while he reached up, remembering how it felt to hold on to those obliques, to scratch down those abdominals as they drove one another to some pretty mind-blowing orgasms.

Stepping further into the room, Lydia snatched her phone up from where she'd left it the night before, tapping the screen to pull up the camera. The sight before her was too damn good not to memorialize forever. And maybe part of her wanted some bragging rights when she headed off to Stanford, wanted the chance to smugly show off the shot and boast about her gorgeous boyfriend.

But mostly she just wanted it for herself, for those inevitable nights when he was on the late shift and she was feeling lonely and needy.

Jordan turned his head to her while closing the cabinet door, raising an eyebrow, lips trembling as he tried to fight off a smile. "What're you doing?" he questioned with a slight laugh, voice husky from sleep and from literally growling as she'd gone down on him.

She'd always been good at head. Just another item on her long list of skills.

"Immortalizing the moment," she replied, her own voice raspier than normal from screaming--thankfully not about death though. Finally.

The eyebrow went up again as he stared at her dubiously. "Of me making coffee?"

"Of you looking deliciously sexy while making coffee."

He grinned widely and turned to face the coffee machine, suddenly bashful as a result of the compliment. Lydia seized the opportunity and tapped her screen, taking the perfect shot of him, bare chested, smiling, beautiful, and all hers. She set it as her lockscreen as he clicked a few buttons on the Keurig, the machine gurgling as it brewed. Setting her phone aside, she raised her head to find him walking over, smirk on his face.

"Wanna know what's the _real_ best part of waking up?" he asked, voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine and had her nipples tightening under her borrowed tee.

"What's that?" she played along, tongue darting out to lick her lips, eyes darting down and becoming fixated on the V between his legs and torso. She'd always been a sucker for guys who had that.

He stopped when he was directly in front of her, his feet framing her smaller ones, his hands holding her hips and getting tangled in the loose fabric of the too-big borrowed tee. "Folgers in your cup."

She let out a noise of offense and smacked the middle of his chest, glaring at the smirk on his face and the chuckle leaving his lips.

"Kidding, kidding," he assured her, the laughter dying down but the smile remaining, eyes and voice earnest and open as he continued. "Waking up to your beautiful face."

The sincerity in his voice made her swallow hard, her hands sliding up the flat planes of his chest and wrapping over his shoulders. She thought about how her face was free of make-up, how her hair must have been a tangled mess after sex and sleep, how she probably had gunk in the corner of her eyes and stinky morning breath. Yet Jordan still called her beautiful, meaning every syllable.

It wasn't the first time a guy had uttered those words to her and she was sure they all meant it, but the comment always came when she was fully made up and her hair was perfectly styled and her wardrobe was immaculate--except for the one occasion when Stiles called her beautiful while she was bawling her eyes out in her car in the Beacon Hills High parking lot. But standing there sleep rumpled and in a shirt that was hanging off her, it was the first time she truly believed there was more to her physical attractiveness than a good bottle of concealer and a designer dress.

A smile formed on her face as she peered up at him, moving to press as much of herself against him as possible in an attempt to get closer. "Reeeally?" she asked, stretching the word out. "I always thought it was morning sex."

Flames danced in his eyes and before she knew it, his hands were gripping her ass and lifting her in the air, making her squeal in surprise. She laughed when she was placed on the counter, draping her arms over his shoulders as he moved between her legs, sweeping her strawberry blonde locks back from her face, his touch gentle and reverent.

"I say that's the second best part," he commented, not giving her a chance to debate, swooping in and kissing her hard.

Lydia practically melted against him as their lips moved together, the smell of coffee filling the air, the Keurig gurgling as it finished pouring. But the hot and caffeinated went ignored as the two of them went about celebrating their own ideas of the best part of waking up.


End file.
